


Forcing His Hand

by RAAMIsABeast



Series: One Shot Collection [39]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Healers, Mages, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 12:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAAMIsABeast/pseuds/RAAMIsABeast
Summary: His tattoo, a sleek cat, draping along the front of his shoulder lazily, ached faintly. It had been worse when the... the General of the other army had touched it. His reputation was well earned, a cruel, emotionless husk of Dark Magic and Hellfire.





	Forcing His Hand

**Author's Note:**

> May include a second chapter.
> 
> Let me know if you'd like that.

The horse galloped frantically, driven onward by the small figure clutching desperately at the reins.

"That's it... good boy..."

His words were swallowed by the rushing wind, and behind him that same wind billowed the blaze malevolently consuming the trees. But the fire wasn't the problem. The cause of the fire was.

His tattoo, a sleek cat, draping along the front of his shoulder lazily, ached faintly. It had been worse when the... the General of the other army had touched it. His reputation was well earned, a cruel, emotionless husk of Dark Magic and Hellfire.

Rumours said he was half Demon, and the man didn't know if he could fully accept that. He hadn't _looked _half Demon...

An explosion ripped the forest floor ahead of him, and his horse screamed, rearing and throwing him from the saddle. But he didn't run off, stamping in the direction of the explosion before looking over to check on the rider.

Luckily, there hadn't been anything to injure him, though his backside would definitely bruise. Stumbling to his feet, he brushed himself down to settle his nerves.

"Let's go..."

He clambered back onto the stallion, patting his thick neck.

"Let's go, my good boy."

Going forward was a no go. With that explosion, there was bound to be fighting - how had the fighting overtaken him? - and he was no solider, even with his training.

Sweeping his head around, forcing down the panic as the flames licked closer and closer, he spotted an unused but still there trail. It was the only way, and went South. It should take him to one of the hideouts of his side. To safety.

The foliage flew by as the stallion galloped in the direction his rider had guided him in, youthful stamina proving to be in their favour. For a second, he was glad for the light of the fire, for it allowed him to see ahead, scout out dangers.

And just as soon as he thought that, the fire was extinguished like someone had flicked a switch, and a horrifying screech echoed over the forest.

The enemy General's steed... The only reason he could be here... was if he was following the man.

Why else would he take away the fire, so close to a bout of fighting?

They had to hide, now.

Guiding the stallion under a thickset tree, he held his breath, listening out for any threat. Judging by the prick of Chase's ears, he too was on high alert.

But the wind was a hindrance, every gust sounding like a wing beat, every silent stretch ramping up their terror to higher and higher levels.

Nothing happened for a while, and the explosions from the warring armies were becoming fainter. It sounded safer now.

And then, ripping through the wind's song, a horn blared. A surrender horn. His side's surrender horn...

All Hell broke loose. Claws suddenly latched into his sides, and the man was torn off the back of his horse.

"Run, Chase!"

He shouted, in case there was another thing to swipe up his trusted companion. Vague memories of the first battle he had been on the front lines for, before he was changed to a healer, he had seen more than one. He was sure of it.

The eagle like talons hooked under his basic armour and into his skin, gripping him tight so he couldn't fall. He didn't really want to fall, especially when they left the canopy far below them. Another screech, and the flying creature angled itself down, feathered wings pulling in as it started diving.

Despite himself, he screamed at the sudden drop, stomach leaping up his throat and seeming to crush his racing heart against his stoic ribcage. It could just... slam him against a tree and kill him easily.

And then it was spreading its wings again, speed increased, and gliding over the tops of the trees. Small, reaching branches slapped against his graves and shook his leg bones.

Not even a few seconds later, the forest suddenly gave way to explosion-cratered land. Fires from the bombs and rockets and magic consumed the dead mercilessly, and even some of the living who couldn't run. Haunting cries of the burning soldiers caused him to shiver for a different reason to being cold or scared. No... Why weren't they being helped?

Bellowing out, the beast halted its forward march, powerful wings blowing the dirt into the faces of kneeling prisoners. In front of the line of captives... stood the General of the winning army. His helmeted head had been faced towards his second in command - or what the man assumed was his second in command - and the call of his beast attracted his attention.

"Drop him, Slävia."

Exotic name for an exotic beast.

He cried out when he hit the floor, stumbling as the impact jarred his balance. Getting his shaking under control was no easy task, but he did so, standing straight and staring ahead, projecting confidence he didn't feel.

Not when those golden eyes gleamed with cruel amusement underneath a fire blackened helmet.

"Have a pleasant ride,"

The grin was heard more than seen, and the General turned to fully face the Healer.

"Devin?"

Something curled around his mind and his tattoo roared to life with pain so bad Devin fell to his knees. What was this? It hurt... He wanted to go home...

Cold metal touched his chin as the General tilted the healer's head up to meet his eyes, narrowing them when Devin yanked his head away and scrambled backwards to put some distance between them. When had he gotten so close?

"Do you know why Healers are given a tattoo that burns?"

Devin shook his head, yelping when he bumped against the General's beast.

"The worst thing a Healer can come across is a being who's magic doesn't rely on where they grew up. After all, you mages are rather varied in your abilities and your skills. It would be a shame if you came across, say..."

He drifted closer, and the healer couldn't escape, trapped by his fear and the warm beast blocking anymore backward movement.

Devin really didn't like his tone, amused and yet threatening. Rage fueled shouting Devin could handle. But this? This quiet, almost domestic amusement? No. It terrified him more than being thrown off that cliff by his mother had.

"A Demon."

Closing in with two long strides, the General trapped Devin with an armoured knee crushing his thigh. Agony lit his entire body on fire as a hand curled over his shoulder, the shoulder with the cat on. He screamed.

"Beautiful."

A croon. Humans didn't croon like that. On impulse, he blasted the other away with his magic, blowing off his helmet at the same time.

Devin got to his feet and whimpered at the cold fury in the golden eyes staring him down, set upon a face human and yet not human. The pale flesh was like that of northern Humans, the eyes had the usual pupil, iris and white, the nose wasn't anything weird.

However, the canines that flashed when the General snarled, the way his pupils narrowed into barely there vertical slits, and the sound that rippled from deep within his thickly muscled chest were most definitely not human.

But not Demon either. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

This outward rage Devin could deal with, drawing upon his inner reserves.

He wasn't prepared for the General to shift back to a simmering pot, for all appearances calm again. The give away was his eyes, expressive in their anger.

"It seems someone needs to learn their place, General."

The Second in Command grinned, bending to retrieve the superior man's helmet.

"Want me to do so?"

"No. I'll deal with him later. For now, chain him and tie him to Slävia."

With a grin, the man did just that, and he had more up his sleeve than Devin realised. One moment, he was preparing to dodge, the next he was pinned in his belly, arms wrenched painfully behind his back and the soldier's heavy weight squeezing the breath from his lungs.

"Just for good measure..."

Something pricked his neck, and he could only release a whimper before his vision darkened and he went under.


End file.
